


Just In Case

by poeticdaisy (cinna_daisy)



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Carlos/Cecil Palmer (Implied) - Freeform, Episode: e023 Eternal Scouts, M/M, Past Earl/Cecil, Pining, Re-Education
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-12
Updated: 2014-06-12
Packaged: 2018-02-04 08:31:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1772530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinna_daisy/pseuds/poeticdaisy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of the entire range of human emotions, Earl thought, hope had to be the most despicable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just In Case

**Author's Note:**

> I re-listened to Eternal Scouts and was having feelings, so here is some gratuitous pining!Earl. Sorry, Earl, I just love to see you suffer. I'm sure this fic has been written 100 times already, but oh well. This all happened fairly quickly, so I more than welcome corrections you'd like to point out.
> 
> Also: If this fic reminds you of another fic (possibly in another fandom?) let me know. I have this nagging feeling that I read something that inspired this, but I may just be making that up.

Earl’s bedroom was nice and tidy. He had his maroon sheets tucked neatly over his bed, pillows fluffed and centered. His clothes were folded and stacked in his closet, and his multiple pairs of hiking boots were lined up according to color and function. His window was open, letting natural light flood in and illuminate the space. A candle was burning, a new scent called Earthworm Organs.

It was exactly how Cecil would like it, Earl thought.

Too bad Cecil would never see it.  
///

_“...And I fell in love instantly.”_

Earl dropped the Subway sandwich he was holding, and promptly proceeded straight to his bathroom to vomit. 

He couldn’t bring himself to turn off the radio. Every time he heard the phrases “perfect hair” or “strong jaw” he felt a new bout of nausea, so he just finished the broadcast sprawled out on his cold bathroom floor.  
///

Earl was walking through Ralph’s, trying to find his favorite moon blood tea, when he heard the unmistakable click of Cecil’s work shoes. It was a sound that used to fill him inexplicable safety. It was a sound that meant _Cecil is home._

Now it just makes him feel heavy.

Cecil stopped a few steps away from Earl, also browsing the tea selection.

“Scoutmaster,” he nodded in greeting, giving him a smile that almost made Earl feel warm enough to counteract the coolness of the formal title.

Almost.

“Hello, Cecil,” Earl said

Cecil looked over the teas for a few more seconds, humming gently to himself, before he spoke again.

“You know, they never sell the moon blood anymore,” Cecil huffed. “I must have requested it a million times from management, and still, nothing.” 

The comment hit Earl square in the gut. When he had met Cecil, Cecil hadn’t even liked moon blood tea. He had started drinking it only because it was the only kind Earl ever had stocked in his kitchen cupboards. 

Cecil had complained heavily at first, but eventually it grew on him. It had become one of their relationship quirks, one of their “things” that couples had. When one was upset, the other would make them a cup of moon blood, or they would drink a cup together after a round of particularly good sex, if they were both too hyped up on hormones and love to fall asleep right away.

“I would give anything, for that,” Earl murmured to himself, but embarrassingly, Cecil heard him.

“For moon blood tea?” Cecil asked. “I know, me too. I guess I’ll be settling for diamond peppermint again.”

Earl cringed and felt the blood rush to his face. He looked at Cecil, at his mussed hair. His fingers tingled with the want to run his hands through it, to smooth it off his forehead. He hated himself for what he was about to do, but did it anyway.

“Is there any, er, any particular reason you like the moon blood so much?” Soon his face would be close in color to his auburn hair. 

Cecil pondered for a moment, as if this was a completely normal question to get from a mere acquaintance in the supermarket. 

“Hmm, you know, I don’t think there is. Just one of those random quirks, I suppose. But it always manages to perk me up, if I’m feeling out of sorts.” He sniffed and adjusted his thick purple glasses. “Is moon blood your favorite, too?”

The way Cecil asked it, so casual, like he would ask any stranger, made Earl want to crawl inside of himself. This entire conversation was a horrible, painful reminder that the re-education hadn’t removed the time Cecil and Earl had been together from the other man’s brain. 

It had just removed Earl.

“No,” Earl answered weakly. “Not anymore.”

Cecil gave him a strange look. Earl didn’t blame him, this was a strange conversation.

“Well, enjoy the rest of your shopping trip,” Cecil said. “I must be off, I need to check and see if there’s anymore of those purple pineapples. Khoshekh just loved them chopped up with the rest of his food. Nice running into you, Scoutmaster!” Cecil waved a goodbye, and was off down the aisle with another smile.

It was stupid to think that a tea flavor would trigger Cecil’s memory, Earl thought. But he couldn’t help but try. Just in case.  
///

He went home, after that, and wrecked his bedroom. He unmade his bed, took the clothes out of his closet and tossed them into piles on the floor. He looked at the mess and felt satisfied. Cecil would have made him pick it up before going to bed, but Cecil wasn’t here, wasn’t coming back, so what did it matter?

Earl leaned against the doorframe of his room, breathing heavily and hated himself when he started to pick up the mess. He didn’t want Cecil to regain his memories, to come rushing home, only see that Earl had let the place go.

 _Of the entire range of human emotions_ , Earl thought, _hope had to be the most despicable_.  
///

Immediately following Cecil’s re-education, Earl had thought, desperately, that he may be able to salvage what was lost. He figured out that Cecil remembered being childhood friends with Earl, but was under the impression that their acquaintance tapered out by high school.Maybe the other man didn’t remember their years and years of friendship, and how in love they came to be, but Earl was still Earl and Cecil was still Cecil. They were perfect for each other, with or without memories.

Earl entertained elaborate fantasies of chatting Cecil up casually one day, maybe inviting him out to dinner or on a walk. They would surely hit it off, one date would turn to two and more, and then, _voila_ , they could be Earl and Cecil again. It would be different, but better than nothing.

Earl wasn’t supposed to have Cecil’s phone number, in this strange new reality, so he knew he would have to ask Cecil out in person, making it look like a happy coincidence that they were in the same place at the same time.

He put on the pair of jeans that Cecil always said made him look nice and a black t-shirt. He brushed his hair back out of his face and even spritzed on some of the cologne that Cecil had gotten him for their last anniversary (he tried not to think about how ‘last’ meant actual, final, last, instead of ‘previous’). He hoped it didn’t look like he was trying too hard.

He walked by the Moonlite All-Nite Diner, where he knew Cecil would be just finishing his turnip fries. Sure enough, just as he was walking past, Cecil was strolling out, still in his work clothes. 

Earl stared at him and was hit with a powerful wave of regret. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t walk over to the other man, the man who had been his best friend and who had captured so much of his soul, and ask him out like some stranger. It was impossible. Earl didn’t know why he thought that would be a good idea. Even if Cecil did want to go out with him, the entire relationship would be a huge, one-sided lie. 

He turned abruptly, and walked back home.  
///

The worst thing about listening to Cecil gush about the new scientist on the radio was that Earl knew he would never have that.

He didn’t blame the scientist, didn’t have it in him to be jealous or angry with him. He certainly didn’t blame Cecil, it’s not like he had any idea what he was putting Earl through.

But every time Cecil mentioned the scientist’s perfect hair or radiant complexion, he was filled with emotions too complicated to fully work out. He was truly, honestly happy that Cecil had found another person that would make him as happy as Earl did.

(He quieted the voice in his head that whispered to him, _the scientist will make him even happier. He never got all giddy like that over you, did he?_ Those were thoughts that weren’t helping anybody, not a bit.)

He was however, unable to look past the fact that, now that Cecil was lost, Earl will never get a happy ending. There won’t be an outsider appearing randomly in Night Vale that Earl can fall in love with. Even if there was, Earl wouldn’t be interested. 

He had already met the love of his life. There would be no other.  
////

It wasn’t the sexual aspect of their relationship that Earl missed most. It was the companionship, the love, the intimacy. 

Every day, he missed holding hands with him as they walked around Mission Grove Park. He missed having Cecil to chat with over breakfast. He missed taking care of him when he was sick, wiping him down with a cool cloth when he was running a fever. He missed gathering Cecil into his arms after Station Management had given him a hard time, running his hands up and down his back until Cecil stopped shaking. 

Every morning when he got dressed, he felt the ghost of Cecil’s fingers at his neck from whenever the broadcaster tried to tie Earl’s tie. Earl could almost feel Cecil’s arms around him while he sat on his sofa, watching a nature documentary. He sometimes still looked for Cecil’s car in the parking lot after work, forgetting that it was highly unlikely that the man would be picking him up.

Those are the things he missed the most.

But he’d be a complete liar if he said he didn’t miss the sexual aspect at all. 

He hated himself, every time it came to this. He hated the way that sometimes, he would turn on Cecil’s show, only to find himself unable to think about anything besides the way that deep, round voice used to say his name. Sometimes it was muffled, with Cecil’s face pressed into a pillow, or sometimes it was shouted so loudly that Earl barely recognized that the noise Cecil was making actually was his name at all. 

But it was always “ _Earl._ ”

He hated himself for leaving the radio on while he headed upstairs and sprawled out on his bed. Pants around his ankles and cock in hand, he hated the way Cecil was saying “ _the Taco Bell will be closed for renovations until next Tuesday, unless the bird-lizards come back,_ ” but what he heard was, “ _yes, Earl, more please, it’s always been you, Earl, just you, always you._ ”

He hated himself, and always felt guilty, but not enough to stop.

On those nights, the orgasms were almost worth the pitying looks that Mellie, the Sheriff's Secret Police officer assigned to his block, sent him the next morning.

He knew that Cecil and the new scientist weren’t actually dating yet. It didn’t matter, it was a technicality. If they weren’t dating yet, it was only a matter of time. And even if they never dated, it would only be somebody else that Cecil set his sights on. It would never be Earl.

Earl was being honest with himself when he said he wasn’t jealous of the scientist, but when he thinks about the man in Cecil’s bed, _his_ Cecil’s bed, touching him, making Cecil moan and gasp in ways that Earl was so sure he had sole possession over, and possibly even in ways that Earl hadn’t….

Well, it’s enough to make anybody feel a little primal.  
///

For what it was worth, Earl figured it was only a matter of time until the scientist admitted that he returned Cecil’s affections. That man called Cecil way too much, professional reasons or not, to be completely uninterested.

This was confirmed the day of the Eternal Scout ceremony. The entire business was awful, but if anybody had to bear the burden of working this out, Earl was glad to have the honor.

He was taking an aimless walk after the (rather late, Earl thought) sunset, trying to gather his thoughts and courage about the whole ordeal. When he looked up, he saw the scientist, waving some machine at a stop sign.

Earl could see why Cecil was transfixed. The man really was something, and the early dusk light wasn’t hurting either. 

He approached him, but the scientist didn’t look up from his machine. It was silver, and there were lights flashing, blue and green, depending on which way the man waved it.  
Earl cleared his throat to try and get his attention. The scientist ignored him, muttering to himself and writing something in his notebook with what looked like mustard on a paintbrush.

“Hello,” Earl tried. The man blinked and slid his eyes over to Earl, all without stopping whatever it was he was doing with the machine.

“Hello, Scoutmaster,” he responded, sounding like he couldn’t be less interested in Earl’s presence.

Earl contained a sigh. It’s not like he wanted to be here, either.

“Er, lovely night we’re having, hm?” Earl tried, and cringed. The man was clearly not going to be interested in small talk. 

“Hmm,” the other man agreed, not taking his eyes off the stop sign.

“So…” Earl trailed off. This was harder than he thought. “Are you doing… science?” He tried.

The man didn’t stop what he was doing, still waving the machine back and forth, but Earl could tell he hit a spark, somewhere.

“Yes,” he breathed. “It seems like all of the road navigation materials in Night Vale have somehow started imposing the opposite of their intended effect on the citizens. For example, anyone who approaches this stop sign, instead of stopping, is automatically propelled sixty feet forward at a speed of fifty miles an hour. I thought at first that it was just people with stop sign immunity flaunting their privileges, but it seems like it’s happening everywhere. Everybody in left turn only lanes are now turning right. I can only imagine it has something to do with the internal coordination of the lateral plane of motion in this town, but I can’t put my finger on it, specifically. It’s very interesting.”

Earl rubbed the bridge of his nose. He did not sign up for this. Better to just cut to the chase. He exhaled a breath.

“So, Cecil.” He said, rather matter of factly.

To Earl’s complete surprise, the man lowered the machine and turned to look at Earl square in the face. _Finally have your attention, then, don’t I, Mr. Scientist_ , Earl thought. Cecil tends to have that effect on people.

“What about him?” He asked. Earl couldn’t clearly read the expression on his face, but thought that he might pick the word “cautious” to describe it.

In some alternate reality, Earl thought, Earl might be the kind of person to push the man up against the stop sign, threaten that he better leave his grimy, outsider-paws off of his boyfriend, _or else_. 

In this reality, he only gives the man a small smile. 

“Nothing to worry about,” he assures him. “It’s just, he’s… he’s great, isn’t he?”

The other man seemed confused, lifting his eyebrows in question. 

“I have found him an incredible professional asset during my time as a scientist in this town,” he replied.

Earl scoffed. He couldn’t deal with this. 

“ _Incredible professional asset_ , yeah, all right,” he said. “Look, I just wanted to tell you, Cecil is really something. You’re very lucky to have him, and I hope you’re very happy together.”

Earl said it in something of a rush, and was relieved to find that he felt he had said what he had meant to say. It wasn’t closure, not by a long shot, but it was a start.

The scientist looked even more confused. “Scoutmaster, despite what the radio may lead you to believe, Cecil and I aren’t dating, we’re merely-”

“Spare me,” Earl cut him off. “I know. But all the same. Best of luck to you.”

The perplexion on the other man’s face was astounding. Earl couldn’t blame him, he wasn’t exactly making a lot of sense. He was spared from having to continue by the approach of, _of course, who else,_ Cecil himself.

“Scoutmaster,” he greeted Earl. “ _Carlos_. Sorry to interrupt, gentlemen, but are you doing _science_ , Carlos?”

Earl did not want to be present for this. He could almost see the hearts in Cecil’s eyes, and he didn’t want to think about how he wasn’t sure if Cecil’s smile was ever that big for him.

The scientist- _Carlos_ , Earl corrected himself, he had a name, using it wasn’t going to make anything worse- _Carlos_ , for his part, wasn’t faring much better. He turned his entire body to face Cecil, his face lighting up in an expression of adoration. Earl wasn’t sure if it was for Cecil or for science, or some combination of both, but it was evident that Earl hadn’t been mistaken about thoughts on Carlos’ affections.

“Yes, I am,” Carlos said, pushing up his glasses with one hand, and raising the machine again with the other. “In fact, Cecil, I’m glad you’re here. Do you have time to stick around, for a while, before your show? I have some questions about typical Night Vale navigation techniques that you may be able to help me with.”

Earl tried not to roll his eyes. _Smooth, Carlos_ , he thought. He tried not to think of the excuses he used to make to get Cecil alone. 

Cecil looked like Valentine’s Day had been cancelled. “Oh, _Carlos_ , of course I have some time to help you with science! Science is very important, after all.”

Earl couldn’t stick around to see this. It was torture, to watch them in the happy, exploratory stages of their relationship, still testing the water to see what may happen. Too much like the period of time where Earl and Cecil were trying to figure out how to go from best friends to lovers, a time full of cautious smiles and giggly ups and downs. He couldn’t witness Cecil going through it with somebody else.

“I better get going,” Earl said, although he was certain he could have just walked away and neither of them would have noticed. “Gotta go finish setting up for the Eternal Scout ceremony. Knowing Franky and Barty, they’ve probably got the younger kids doing all the work for them. Best go check in.”

Cecil looked away from Carlos, and for one glorious second, Earl thought maybe, just maybe Cecil had felt a spark of something.

But then he said, “Oh yes, the ceremony! Scoutmaster, would you be able to drop by the studio later and give a statement? It’s all very exciting, this Eternal Scout business.”

Earl deflated. “Of course, Cecil. I’ll be by a little later.”

“Great, see you then!” And then Cecil turned back to Carlos, who had gone back to waving his machine around.

Exciting, indeed. Earl ran by the Vacant Lot Out Back of the Ralph’s and check on his Scouts, who all seemed to be existing in the same state of pride and fear as he was. He supervised the set-up procedures for about an hour before heading to the station to give Cecil his statement. 

Walking back to his Scouts, he couldn’t make himself regret his last words to Cecil. He had been feeling brave in the face of the unknown monster that was the Eternal Scout ceremony. _Always remember that_ , he had said, which was so fitting, as Cecil remembered nothing. After he had said it, Cecil had looked confused. 

He almost felt victorious. Normally, any time he broke down and desperately hinted something to Cecil, the other man had just responded with a blank stare. But this time, he had looked genuinely taken aback, like he knew there was something he was missing.

Earl tried to squash that thought. It sounded too much like _hope_ , and he had decided years ago to stay far, far away from that word, but some part of him couldn’t extinguish that flame completely. _Maybe all was not lost, maybe Cecil would regain his memories soon, maybe it would matter or maybe he had already lost him to Carlos, maybe, maybe, maybe..._

Earl shook his head. _Maybe_ he should focus on making sure everybody survives the ceremony. He straightened his Scout hat and continued down the road toward the Vacant Lot Out Back of the Ralph’s. 

On the way there, he passed his house, and took a quick detour. He climbed the stairs to his bedroom and made sure it looked pristine, exactly the way Cecil would have liked it.

Just in case.  
///

_Scout Master Harlan was one of the ones taken. I hope that he continues to be both proud and terrified, in whichever new reality he finds himself. I think often about the last moments with him, and the things that were said._

_I think often about many things._

_Other things, I think less about._

**Author's Note:**

> Come hang out with me on [tumblr](http://www.poeticdaisy.tumblr.com) if you like to look at reblogs and talk about Night Vale!


End file.
